Forget Me Not
by Spirit Of Innocence
Summary: So what if I love you. I've never asked you to love me. I've never asked anything from you. And now my heart is broken and bleeding. And I don't know how much longer I can hold on. KaiOC [Oneshot]


_**A/n: **Just a little one-shot I came up with. Short and sweet and a bit sad. Tentativly KaiOC, but you'll notice no names mentioned, so think of it what you like._

_Dedicated to Almandine-Azaleea, an author whose has inspired me and helped me to improve my writing. I am extremely thankful to have discovered her._

_----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------_

**Forget Me Not.**

**----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------**

It was a long time ago that I stopped asking you why. Why me? There were so many others you could have had. Was I randomly selected? Or was it by process of elimination? Don't like her hair, don't like her eyes, she'll do? Was it because I was brave enough to ask you out? No. I'm sure you have girls that ask you that everyday. Maybe I was convienient. You were looking for a distraction and the next thing you know I come knocking, so you snap me up. Was that it?

Even then, you made it clear that, should I persist in questioning you, you would end this.

Sometimes I wonder what an outsider looking in on us would think. They probably wouldn't take us for a couple, after all, there is no love between us, you and I. There is no disscusion anymore, or very little. What we have is something different. It is passion, and hunger, and what it breeds is nothing more than mindless self-indulgence.

That is the only truth. Even if _I_ love _you_.

The foolish hopes of it ever becoming something requited have long since perished. And now even my dreams are loveless.

Lying here beside you, your arms and legs wrapped about me, I can almost pretend. The tiny smile, grown from your dreams, is all I need to invent a fantasy in which _I_ am the one that smile is for.

Then it is almost welcome when reality wakes in me and I remember your eyes, devoid of emotion as you tell me to come to you. That's all it takes for the tears to make themselves known.

Your grasp is loose and it takes very little for me to struggle out of it. I make my way to our window. My window really, you spend so much time here that I often mistakenly refer to it as _our _bedroom too.

Tonight the sky is littered with stars. The clouds that obscured them yesterday have disappeared, ashamed of themselves.

I remember I used to wish on them a long time ago. I would get so excited when I saw the first star of the night. I'd put my hands together and close my eyes. 'Make him love me.' It was always the same. And at that time, I truly believed it would come true. Be patient, I'd tell myself, give him time. Give him space. In the end, he'll realise he needs you as much as you need him.

But you never wanted space. You wanted me. And you never wanted time. You wanted me '_now'. _'Come here.' And I'd do it. Of course I would. How could I ever say _no_ to _you_?

The fact is, you'll never _need_ me. Because you can always _have_ me. I am powerless to deny you.

Another tear slides down my cheek and off my chin.

I once told you I loved you. You raised an eyebrow but said nothing. There was laughter in your eyes, the first time I'd seen them anything but indifferent. At first I though you'd end it right there. I remember thinking maybe it wouldn't be so terrible, but then you smiled and that tiny, near-dead ember of hope inside me ignited into a million flames and licked at my heart and made me smile too.

'Come here.' You said. And my world fell apart.

Without a smile, without any speck of hope left, I did as you said. Again.

You took my shoulders and turned me around. The back of my knees hit the end of the bed and buckled. I fell, and you fell on top of me. You kissed my neck, and then my jaw, and then my lips. And then you leant your forehead against mine and looked into my eyes.

'I don't love you.' You said. 'And I never will. But if you can handle that, then I have no problem in staying your _boyfriend._' You seemed amused when you said that. "However. If you're going to try to _win me over_, if you're going to try to make me see how _happy_ we could be, if you're going to go on about our life together, and all the things we could do and be, then I'll end this right now. Understand?'

Little, warm, tears slipped out of the corners of my eyes and ran down onto the sheets beneath me. You kissed one of them away. 'Understand?' You asked again.

I nodded and kissed you. Yes. I understand. And as much as I try to do the right thing, to slap you and throw you out of my room for good, I can't. Even if you can never love me, and I know you can't, I can do nothing but love you.

So you have to stay.

Because I couldn't live without you.

Still…I wonder if it's not you who is the one killing me.

Surely your presence is like poison, and it seems that, little by little, the indifference I once found so attractive, is wrapping around me, asphyxiating me. I know by now that my heart is broken and bleeding.

Sometimes I want to stand up and scream, 'So what if I love you! It's not a crime is it? Is it? Did I ever ask you to love me? Huh? No! Why can't you just once in a while, pretend to care? Would that be so damn hard? Would it?'

I know you'd only laugh at me.

Right now, I'm not sure how much longer I'm going to be able to hold on. And I wonder, when I'm gone, will you miss me? Mourn me? Will another take my place? Will you even care?

I know the truth is not something I want to hear. That makes it hurt all the more.

I crawl back in beside you. You said that you're taking me to see your friends tomorrow. I wonder what they'll think.

As if following a memorised pattern, your arms wrap around me and pull me to you. I sigh. Why is it you never hold me like this when you're awake?

But I can't seem to care. Not anymore.

Without resisting, I shuffle in your arms and make myself more comfortable. I rest my hands against your chest, and my head against your neck and your warmth soothes those few persistent tears away.

I reach up to tuck a lock of hair behind your ear. It's so messy, your hair, and it's always getting itself out of place.

A breathy word leaves your lips and I freeze. It's so unlike you to talk in your sleep. You say it again and this time I am unable to convince myself otherwise. It's my name. Carried on warm breath, pure from your tainted lips, and more beautiful that it's ever been before.

I sob once, and then it begins to leak. For so long now it has been brimming with love and hate and hurt, and you have whispered the last proverbial drop that has spilled it. The torrent that is my heart falls down my cheeks.

You stir, and wake. You say nothing, only watch, confused. And I cling to you with all the life I have and cry into your chest.

"Why?" I whimper.

"Why what?" But even I don't understand the question. I shake my head vigorously.

"I-I…" I don't understand quite what I'm trying to tell you, or what I'm trying to ask of you. The words are there…but not there. I try again. "Please…whatever…whatever happens please…"

And suddenly I know. And it's important. And you have to know too.

"Whatever happens…I will not forget you…so please…so please…I-"

I know them. I do. But when I try to tell you, they get stuck in my throat. And maybe you don't care…so just this once…pretend. Please pretend.

You pull me closer, and my heart spills a little more.

I hope somehow, you will hear what I cannot say. I hope you will understand.

'Whatever happens…I will not forget you…so please,

Dear illusory lover…

…Forget me not.'

-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

_Please review and tell me what you think. Thanks for reading._


End file.
